Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter 1

It's been twelve years since the passing of my mother. I still feel her fingers brushing my blonde, wavy hair from my face, "I swear, I have no idea where you get this blonde hair from," she would often say, her voice soft like silk.

I clutch the necklace my mother gave me to me when I was born, closing my eyes and letting the wave of sadness and pain consume me entirely. Thinking back, I remember her obsession with the ocean. She would say, a dreamy sea has a rhythmic pulse to it unmatched by any other part of nature. It forges its own sounds and kindles its own symphony. There was always something dark about it, but it was one of the great loves of her life, including my father and I.

I think back to the last time I ever saw her, I was five years old when we were sailing, salt when a horrible storm rolled in, the waves pushing the boat in every direction, water hitting us like an endless stream of jabs, her voice hoarse from yelling, telling me to be strong and to hold on. The last thing I heard was an earth-shattering roar, and then darkness. 

I woke up on the shore, the waves were carelessly dribbling onto the sand, my mother was laying beside me, her body still with her jet black hair matted into the sand. I sat there for hours by her side, stroking her hair, singing sweet lullabies pretending that she was asleep and eventually she'd wake up.

Hearing sirens in the distance, the police came and took her body away, leaving me without a mother. My father came and took me, he cried for days on end, with me having to comfort him. Eventually, his sadness overcame him and made him into the alcoholic he is today. Some nights, I hear him crying out my mother's name in pain. I never went sailing again after that day, the quivering sea was hoarding its mighty power, taunting me, waiting for me.

Now, being that I am now eighteen, I can finally move away and start a new life away from here and my mother's lingering shadow. Since my father was never around, I would usually go out with friends and party all night long, making sure I kept on top of my school work. You could say that I'm a little bit of a party animal, however, I always know my limit. 

Light taps come from my door, it slowly opens and my father stands by the doorway, "Hey, are you okay in here honey?" It's not even noon and I can tell the desperation he has to drink, his eyes bloodshot with his hands by his sides shaking ever so slightly, though he knows he has to drive me to my new dorm room today. 

I'm glad he was able to stay sober long enough to take me. "Yeah Frank, I'm fine. I'm almost done packing, I'll be down in a minute." He looks to my neck at the pink pearl I have clutched in my hands, pain shadows his face, he gives me a nod and then closes the door. I take a deep breath and tape my last box, I am now on my way to my new beginning.

We arrive at the University of Victoria, it's a beautiful campus and is booming with first-year students moving in. "Alright that's the last of the boxes," Frank says as he drops the last one. "Do you need help unpacking or am I good to go?" 

I stare down at his hands and notice that they are shaking. "No, I'll be fine, I don't have much to unpack anyways." I give him a small smile. Anguish takes over the room, "I'm gonna miss you, baby," he runs up to and embraces me in his arms. "I'll miss you too, Dad," I say into his shirt. He pulls away from and looks into my eyes, "Your mother would be so proud of you... hell I'm so fucking proud." He gives me a light kiss on the forehead. I wish she were here, it would make this moment infinitely better, but as fate would have it, she's not. We say our goodbyes and then finally leaving me to my own devices.

The dorm room is pretty small but cute nonetheless. I requested for my own room since I don't get along with many people and an absolute need for my own space. I put up my world map above my bed and pinpoint the places I'll be traveling to. When I graduate, I want to travel the world and teach in third-world countries, I want to learn different languages and cultures while also sharing my own, something my mother once did and absolutely loved. It's a dream of mine and something I will one day achieve.

Monday came around, it was the first day of classes. I was excited yet terrified, doing this on my own required a great deal of bravery. Fortunately, my philosophy class starts at one so I have plenty of time to find it. I walk in ten minutes early and sit in the back of the classroom away from everyone. My professor was in mid-sentence talking about Plato when suddenly, the door bursts open. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I, Zac Hawkins, has finally blessed your day with his presence!" he looked to be around six foot one with shaggy brown hair that almost covered his hazel eyes. The professor gives him an irritated look and says, "Please take a seat or I'll be forced to remove you from my classroom."

"Woah, Woah," he puts both his hands in the air. "I come to learn about the Great Philosophers of our time, no need to get all wound up, little princess." The classroom chuckles and so do I. Mr. Morrinson's face turns to a shade of deep red, as he's about to open his mouth when Zac abruptly says, "No worries taking my seat right now."

He bolts up the stairs and looks for a seat, he spots me sitting alone in the back, rushes up and plops next to me. Mr. Morrinson lets out a loud sigh, then continues with the lesson.

"Your handwriting is quite adequate." I look over to my right to see him staring at my notes, lifting his gaze to meet mine.

"Glad you approve," I sarcastically say while rolling my eyes. I swear, if he distracts me during the entire class I'll lose my shit. "Wow a girl with an attitude, I like that," he says as he leans closer towards me.

"Okay, listen here buddy," I put my pen down and turn to face him, "I'm here to learn, I don't have time for your bullshit, you may think you're funny but really you're just fucking annoying," I whisper angrily towards him.

"And the name is Skye, not 'girl'." Finished with my little rant, I looked away from him and towards the professeur, trying my best to block him out. "Skye, what a nice name, I like it." I roll my eyes again. "Glad you like it," I say, the sarcasm dripping from my lips.

"The name is Zac." He reaches his hand over to shake mine. I stare at it in confusion. "This is the part where you shake my hand and we finally become friends." His smile is so contagious it's hard to not catch. I reach my hand out and shake his, "Skye Wilson," "Well, Skye Wilson, here's to having made your first friend in University."

He reaches down to take a gold flask out of his floral backpack, "It's rhum, wants some?" Winking at me as he says so. "Why the hell not," I take the flask out of his hands and take a good sip, scrunching my face at the sourness of it. "Cheers to the beginning of a great friendship," taking the flask out of my hands he takes a chug. "To commence the beginning of this fantastically, awesome friendship, I declare that Friday night you make no plans and come to a frat party with my friends and I."

Just the idea of going to a frat house makes my stomach turn. Doesn't he know that frat houses aren't considered cool anymore? "I don't know frat parties are usually lame..." I wouldn't know for certain, but I'm not in the mood to get hit on by a bunch of jocks with their dicks in hand. "I promise you, you will have a great time trust." Still unsure, I was about to decline when he said, "There's free booze and we'll smoke a joint before going in." "You sir, have a deal," I say with a smile, surprising myself a little.

The party might suck, but how could I say no to free drinks? "Alright, alright give me your number and I'll come pick you up Friday around eight." He hands me his phone and I type in my number. "If this party turns out to be lame, I'm you holding you accountable," I say, half-seriously. "Is that a promise?" He says with a mischievous smile.